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People are denouncing "drama" on Myspace almost as much as other people are denouncing Myspace. They hate drama, they don't need drama or they have enough drama.

No shit?

I love me some drama.

You don't love it? That phone call wakes you up at 5:45 in the morning with your gossipy cunt friend on the line asking "Guess who has AIDS?" - do you tell them to "save their drama" and hang up without finding out? Or do you shoot straight up like ants in your bed and shriek "Who????"

Seems like I used to be mired in drama. I'd step in it like dog shit. I liked it - it gave me something to write about, to scheme about, it'd drive some adrenaline up my spine. Now I live in a town of 6,000 people and I can't even give the Safeway guy the shit-eye when I'm in a hurry and he's loafing off. In a town this small, if you tell someone to fuck off, you'd better mean it and mean it for the long term. Because you're gonna see that guy at breakfast and at the four-way stop and when you call the plumber it's gonna be him and he'll be at the bank and at the bar and at the poker game and possibly be the one answering your "lost cat" poster from the bulletin board at the co-op.

If you want him to fuck off, it's for keeps. It keeps you in check but it really makes you stop taking drama for granted, much less piss all over it like your life is far too complex to have any need for the cheap thrills of drama queens and dirty laundry all around.

"Did you hear what happened to Cherie in Mexico?"

"No! Please tell me! Add in lies or exaggerate as much as you can! I don't get this shit anymore. I just sit and listen to these dullards talking about car parts and re-telling the same bumper sticker jokes and I want to condemn any drama-basher to sit through this for an hour and not beg for someone to run in and say...

"Did you guys hear who died?"

God, I hope it's someone better than Gerald Ford this time. Anna Nicole? No shit. That's pretty good. It won't make the act but it brightened up my day for a second. Still, I'd rather have my own shit to talk about.

Joe Rogan has some sweet drama going on and it's caught on tape. I love that about Rogan. It's always caught on tape. He's the Anti-Rouse. Sean Rouse has great stories but he's always blacked out when they happen so unless you have a credible witness, it's lost. Rogan always has a cameraman so you don't even have to take his word for it. Play back the tape, bailiff and let's see what's what. I wish Rogan would hang out with Rouse more often. Those would be some valuable tapes.

Check out the latest in Rogan vs Mencia. If you can lower yourself into enjoying some really egregious drama, that is.

If you are someone who expects something for Valentine's Day or are someone committed to someone who expects something for Valentine's Day, I pity you as deeply and openly as if you professed to know what God is.

Valentine's, diamonds, anyone trying to take a 5% rake off of love.

He doesn't truly love you unless he buys you this product. And fortunately for both of us, we happen to sell that product.

I want to hate the people who capitalize but, like church, when the suckers are lining up at the door like this, why would you wanna work hard for a living? I don't know who's to blame but I know who's complicit and there's more of them than there are of us. That fact and four days without a cigarette are enough to depress me greatly.

Don't worry, I'm conspiring to trick myself into smoking again after the next beer and then in the morning dupe my brain back into thinking that those late-night cigarettes were no different than drunk-dials, that they didn't really count and that I'm quitting just fine.

I can't keep any train of thought without smoking. It's hard enough with one burning in my hand. This was about Valentine's and diamonds and drama and now it's about going out for a cigarette.

Hold on.

That felt good.

Someone sent me a drunken message on Myspace - I get a lot of those and give as well as I get - saying that they'd just smoked after quitting and how good that first cave-in cigarette tastes. How right you are, whoever you were.

I'm almost 40, standing in the back yard in my slippers sneaking a smoke as though I have anyone to hide from but myself. I have yellow legal pads filled with notes and Post-Its piled up in textbooks about American government and Libertarian politics. I have a dog that doesn't come when he's called and a girlfriend who is better at not smoking than I am. I have lists of shit to do, people to call, gigs to book, bills to pay, asses to kiss and fools to suffer. I have the illusion of a life.

What I don't have right now is drama.

I bet it's on it's way.

I'll be filming an hour special for Showtime in NYC at Gotham Comedy Club on March 13th. It isn't up on their site yet but save the date and show up.

[Chaille adds: The show is posted now and you are encouraged to call for reservations (212) 367-9000]